The theme of the current UW Dance Department Faculty Concert is change, from Li Chiao-Ping reformulating the idea of female energy in the I Ching to Collette Stewart dramatizing evolution over time. Guest artist Takehiro Ueyama shows how we lose our grasp on time, Jin-Wen Yu how we lose our grasp on each other, and Omari Carter how injury changes a dancer. The program, which features student dancers, premiered Nov. 21 and will also be presented Nov. 22 at 8 p.m. and Nov. 23 at 2:30 p.m. in the H’Doubler Performance Space in Lathrop Hall, 1050 University Ave.
The program’s opener, Life & Death by Collette Stewart, tells a fanciful philosophical story of metamorphosis in words and movement. Although witty, the words spoken by dancers were inaudible at times. But the movements were as funny as the voice parts — elephants change into gorillas, but nobody understands how. A wolf kills a fox which leads to the development of deer and a forest of antlers. A debate begins over heaven versus reincarnation. The narrator proposes we pay more attention to the day of rest than to productivity and all the dancers crowd into a crouch, “we’ll have to wait and see.” Composer Matt Blair performs live a computer-generated soundscape that incorporates interesting silences broken by the squeak and thud of feet.
Omari Carter presents a film premiere, finding my feet, that tells of how a knee injury changed his life. Can he live if he cannot dance? He balances on his hands, his body just lifted off the floor, knees swinging. Standing, he lets his upper body twist. “I can’t feel when I’m in alignment,” he says. Despite his doubts, he ends with hope. In the film’s final frame, he is in a gloriously perfect handstand.
Li Chiao-Ping’s Earth begins with off-balance Asian flute sounds and deep elephant rumblings. Women perform tentatively in pairs that deliberately lack cohesion. Then the dance floor clears, leaving the audience to contemplate emptiness. Finally the dance builds again, hypnotically, to a circular expression of primal yin power and community.
Exciting as Earth is, Li Chiao-Ping’s premiere of her Side x Side is just as fascinating. In space-themed costumes, a man and a woman take not just one step for man but dance an entire duet. The dancers, Devon Henningfield and Leah Repenshek, never stopped surprising me. There is an astonishing moment of balance when the woman rests her leg on the man’s shoulder, then he moves off and her leg stays in place. They invert into partner-assisted handstands and end with the gentlest of see-saws. Over the course of the dance an image of clouds on the back scrim becomes increasingly intense as we listen to a voice-over text written by the dancers.
Jin-Wen Yu’s Water starts off with tango-style music and a tense dance between two women, Collette Stewart and Yun-Chen Liu, one in red and one in green, that degenerates into a battle of pushing and yanking each other in a flood of angry red light. Eventually the music and energy change into waltz rhythm; now the dancers mirror each other or dance in sync. The dancer in green falls backward in a startling trust move and is caught by her partner who is lying on the floor. The dance ends with ritual sprinkling of water. Passions have cooled.
A guest artist from New York, Takehiro Ueyama, concludes a very strong evening of dance with the premiere of Moonlight. The dance opens with an enormous blood moon projected on the back scrim. The dancers appear in misty moonlight that reflects off black pants and silvery tops. A voice tells the audience that we don’t realize how short our time is. The dancers slow down time. Someone curls into a fetal position and is rolled by other dancers as if dead. Dancers step over her body. The music is gauzy, like the moonlight. Then everything accelerates. The dancers go into a pop culture frenzy to loud, fast music. Silver tops are splashed in blood red light. Wild disco dancing ensues. The one man in the group of women finds a partner and slides his leg between hers. She falls backward onto his back. The frenzy, sexual or otherwise, ends in the most wonderful stillness. I could not stop looking at three women in silhouette who appear to be sitting on a bench, although there is no bench. They gaze raptly at the moon.
The H’Doubler Performance Space is in Lathrop Hall, an elegant building that the university could do more with. Wonderful displays in the lobby educate the viewer in the history of modern dance, highlighting the role of the UW Dance Department and its graduates. This Faculty Concert contributes to that tradition.
